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Provided By: Muslim Harji
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Travel Log - From Cairo to Cape Town
UPDATE 29 APRIL 2005
We're in Namibia!
Dear Friends and Family,
As the days counting down to the end of our Tour D’Afrique become fewer and
fewer, we have become more and more aware of the fact that our days in Africa
are numbered. We have now entered Namibia and have 2 rest days in the country’s
beautifully modern capital, Windhoek. I have to admit to you all that the
further South we go, the less and less we feel like we are really in “Africa.”
If you blink your eyes, Windhoek could be Ottawa or Montreal – there are
shopping malls, movie theaters, restaurants and fast food chains, tons of
tourists, supermarkets and all the same amenities we have at home. It is only
once we leave the city limits and that we are once again in the countryside that
the feeling that we are in Africa returns. There, we are surrounded by tall
grasses, as far as the eye can see, open horizons and tall
mountain ranges. Namibia’s landscape has so far been a big improvement over
Botswana’s, mainly because there is something new to look at.
Having arrived in Windhoek just yesterday, we took our time relaxing and walking
around the city. In our last stretch, I continued my search for an elephant, and
sadly, I was disappointed. Nothing to see out there at all! I did get to see
some wild dogs, apparently an endangered species, so I guess that is still
pretty good. My mom promised to take me to Granby Zoo when I go home, so I don’t
feel so bad. There are still almost 14 days left on this tour and although we
are going through more populated and developed areas, there is always the
outside chance, however minute, that I may still see an elephant on the road.
I think my letdown about missing out on seeing an elephant was relieved by the
fact that I am supremely proud of myself for a recent accomplishment, a first
(and I think, a last!) for me. Two days ago, we had our longest day of riding on
the tour. When we first started in the Sudan and Ethiopia, our cycling distances
ranged from about 50 to 100 kilometers. Finishing those days was a huge thrill
for me. I would compare that distance to riding from my home to Cornwall to
visit my aunts and uncle and cousin and realize that it really was a huge
distance to cover on a bike. The distances later on in the Tour have gotten
increasingly larger and larger, now averaging between 140 and 175kms, and
finishing them for me is just more than I can handle. Three days ago, our Tour
Director announced that the following day, we would have a distance of 207
kilometers to cover from Ghanzi, Botswana to the Namibian Border town of
Buitenpos! We were well aware of the fact that this day was coming up sometime
soon and I was horrified that it had crept up on me so fast. A friend of mine on
the Tour, Paul, a funny young Irish guy, and I made a pact that I would bike the
entire day and finish it. At first I thought he was joking and so I readily
agreed and played along. When I realized, to my utter surprise and terror, that
he wasn’t kidding, I started to worry about what kind of trouble I had just
gotten myself into. I tried to back out of the plan. I said that there was no
way I would make it, that 207kms was beyond my capabilities. I tried to
rationalize with him that at my turtle’s pace, there was no way that I would be
able to achieve that kind of a distance, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
I told one of our truck drivers, Douwe (pronounced Dowa), about what we were
doing and he decided to join us for the adventure. Paul is a much faster biker
than I am and he said that he would stay with me the whole day, keep me
motivated, and make sure that I finished. I slept very fitfully that night,
worried and scared. I realized that at any point, if I really couldn’t handle it
any more, I could get onto the truck or even hitch a ride, and that
comforted me, but I also knew in my heart that if I started this thing, I would
want to go the whole way and finish the day. Our plan was that we would leave at
the first sign of light and see how it went until at least lunch. I went to
sleep in my spandex bike shorts, thinking it would save me precious time getting
ready so that I could get on the bike sooner. I woke up several times throughout
the night, thinking that I had overslept, and kept looking at my watch. Finally,
when the truck’s generator, our usual wake-up alarm, went off, I rushed out of
the tent, rearing and ready to go. At this point, the sky was still pitch-black,
the stars were still twinkling and our camp was just barely beginning to stir. I
had a quick breakfast and packed up all my stuff and was still waiting for the
sun to poke its head up over the horizon. I was so antsy and the moment it got a
little lighter, I hopped on the bike and took off. For the first time on our
trip, there was a dense fog that hung over the countryside. You couldn’t see
more than 5 or 6 meters in front of you. Luckily, there are so few cars on the
road at 6:30 am that we didn’t have to worry about getting blindsided or hit by
a car. The condensation was so thick that my clothes were soaked immediately.
With all the fog and early-morning cold, I was sure that this was a bad sign and
a forewarning to stop, but Paul said that there was no way we were giving up so
early.
We pedaled all morning, reaching the 87-kilometer lunch stop by 10:00 am. By
this point, although we had started before everyone, most people had already
passed us. To give you all an idea about this, we were biking an average of 25
kilometres an hour, but the top racers are doing between 35 and 40 kms. Beyond
the people that still have their EFI status (those people who have biked and
finished every single day of the Tour) and had to complete the day, many other
bikers said that cycling 200 kms was a pointless exercise, a waste of energy and
a dumb idea. In fact, many riders, knowing my capabilities, with really good
intentions, tried to dissuade me from attempting the whole distance, trying to
save me from spending countless hours on my bike. I said that I would not do
anything beyond what I felt was comfortable for me and so they shrugged their
shoulders and left me to it. Getting to lunch was the easy part. We were still
energized, excited, having fun and strategizing for the
rest of the day. Paul, my fearless leader-cum-dictator, had scheduled set break
times and Douwe and I followed his rigorous and meticulous plan. After 25
kilometers, we would get a four-minute break. Paul would keep his eyes on his
watch the whole time and the second time was up, we were back on the bikes. The
atmosphere between the three of us was really cheerful and upbeat and even
though we were pedaling, it didn’t feel like too much work. After lunch, getting
to the half-way point, 103 kilometers, we stopped to celebrate with a two-minute
break and energy bar boost. Although we were beginning to pedal slower than
before, we were still having a fun time. Reaching the 150-kilometer refreshment
stop, we were doing great. We arrived there earlier than scheduled and so we got
an extra bit of time to rest, almost a full half an hour! By that point,
mistakenly, I believed that we had this day in the bag and that it was going to
be a piece of cake the rest of the way. I mean what was another 60 kilometers
after what we had just done? Any soreness I was feeling was pushed to the
wayside and with the three of us getting along so
well, we weren’t worried at all about finishing the day. We left the refreshment
stop a little before 3:00, and figured we needed at most three hours to get to
the Finish flag at the Namibian border. The last 60 kilometers were by far the
hardest. After already having spent more than 8 hours on the road, pedaling was
exhausting. We were sweaty and tired, our legs moving of their own volition but
requiring so much exertion anyway. We were getting tired and sore but spirits
remained high. We took several unscheduled stops, with Paul’s permission
(actually, I think he was the one that suggested them because he was getting
really tired too), and found cold Cokes at the most random and remote broken
down, side-of-the-road stops. Nearing the 200 kilometer mark, Paul raced ahead
and pulled some long grasses across the road as a makeshift marker line. The
three of us had another celebration at this point and the realization that we
were getting closer and closer came over us.
We still had nearly 10 kilometers to go at this point (the distance turned out
to be closer to 212 kilometers overall total) and so we slogged along, slowing
way down. At this point, the sky was turning a beautiful deep orange and the sun
was far into its descent. Our Tour Director, Randy, can’t cross any border until
all the riders are over in case there is any trouble and so when we finally saw
him at the side of the road, we knew we were almost there. I finished the last
couple of kilometers on pure euphoria at what we had just accomplished. I
couldn’t believe that we had reached the end. At the border post, my legs were
so shaky I could barely stand, let alone remember my own name to fill out on the
immigration forms. I must have stared at the form for a good 5 minutes before I
could decipher what the heck I was supposed to do. We biked to the camp on the
other side of the border, a mere 500 meters, and it was about 6:15. We arrived
completely weary and worn out, but we had made
it. People cheered and clapped and everyone was really happy for us. We arrived
last, after nearly 12 hours on the road, but we DID IT! Through the pain and
fatigue, I couldn’t stop smiling as people came over to congratulate us. I,
Ayesha Harji, biked 207 kilometers! I will (most likely if I’m smart!) never do
that again, but I can now say that I have done it! I can now visualize biking
from my house to Ottawa, more than 2 hours away by car! More than anyone else’s
reaction, I am proud of myself. There were so many times when I wanted to stop,
but we did it! I feel like now, I can do anything I set my mind to. This was a
challenge that can be used as a metaphor for anything else I decide sincerely
that I want to do. I feel a new sense of motivation and drive, and it’s
wonderful!
Well, I just wanted to share that great day with all of you, a day that for me,
certainly, will be remembered for long years to come. Beyond that, there are
fewer than 16 days to go before we are back at home. I can’t wait to see you all
and share more stories and feelings with you!
Take care and lots of love,
Ayesha
Triumphant Ayesha after Cycling 207 kilometers from Ghanzi, Botswana to the Namibian Border town of Buitenpos!
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